


Hell Yes!

by Bookshido



Category: Jennifer's Body (2009), Supernatural
Genre: Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Monster of the Week, implied BDSM, loosely based on the movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 12:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookshido/pseuds/Bookshido
Summary: Dean and Sam have been working on a case involving murdered teen boys and decide to speak to the accused murderess who is being blamed for not only the death of the boys, but also the death of her best friend and her best friend's family.





	Hell Yes!

“I’m not crazy,” the girl insisted, leaning forward as far as she could while still in the restraints.

Sam and Dean were seated in blue plastic office chairs across from a teen girl who was strapped into a very squared four legged chair with a plush seat. It seemed like it would be comfortable if not for the restraints, all of which were fastened down across her wrists and holding her ankles in place. She had shoulder length brown hair that was freshly washed and hung loose around her face, the dark shade only making her pale skin look more pale. Calm brown eyes stared at them, analyzing their every move as she tried to make her point. 

“Miss Bennett, you stabbed your childhood friend Alexis Carter in the heart…” Sam said, trailing off to flip the page of the police report so he could see the exact number. “Seven times and then proceeded to slit her throat before calling the police.” 

Dean’s lip curled up in a grimace, but he didn’t interject as Sam closed the file. 

“Yes,” she admitted, leaning back again and blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “I did do that.”

“And your doctors say that you haven’t shown any sign of remorse for the murder,” Sam continued, shifting so that he was resting his elbows on his legs and staring at her directly. “And that you said ‘I wouldn’t take it back. Alexis had what was coming to her.’ Did you say that?”

“I did,” she huffed, seeming exasperated by the repetition of her words. 

“Then how does that not mean that you are batshit crazy,” Dean asked bluntly, staring at her with a cold, stern expression. 

“Dean,” Sam scolded, giving him a nasty look before smiling sympathetically back at the girl. “I’m sorry for my partner; he can be a bit harsh.”

“No, don’t apologize,” she said, looking away from them with a somber expression. “If I was talking with me like you are, I’d think I was crazy too.”

As her head turned, both brothers were given a clear view of a fresh scar that ran along the spot where her jugular would be. The pinkish-white color stood out distinctly from the surrounding pale skin. It was slightly jagged, resembling that of a bite or rip mark. They both shared a glance as she looked back over at them and kept talking. 

“I don’t even believe myself sometimes,” she admitted. “Miranda, the psycho girl who killed her best friend.”

She swallowed thickly and shifted awkwardly under the restraints. What seemed to be tears began to pool in her eyes and Sam cleared his throat, wanting to move on from the topic at hand. They wouldn’t get anything else out of her if she was crying. 

“Miranda, what can you tell us about that night?” Sam asked, gesturing for Dean to start taking notes. 

“What do you want to know,” she asked, leaning back in the chair and draping her head over the back.

“Was anyone else in the home when the whole thing happened?” Sam asked. 

“No, it was just me,” Miranda admitted. “It was my parents’ anniversary weekend. They took a trip up to our cabin in Blanchia Hills and left me there.”

“Around what time did Alexis arrive at your home?” Sam asked, Dean keeping his mouth shut still. 

“I would say somewhere between 1:30 AM and 2,” Miranda estimated, looking up to the left as she thought. “She broke in around 2.”

“She broke into your house?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing yet again. “The police report didn’t agree with that.”

“They didn’t believe me,” Miranda stated, starting to frown. “They put down in the report that I let her in and lied about the break in.”

“How do you know that she broke in?” Sam asked. 

“There was a rash of break ins a few months ago,” Miranda explained. “My parents got nervous and rehid the spare key in our garden. Alexis knew where it had been for the past ten years and I just never told her. I didn’t have a reason to.”

“So there was no way she could have gotten into the house otherwise?” Sam clarified, watching Dean scribble down the information.

“Not that I know of,” Miranda said with a shrug. “My parents are paranoid. We never left windows open at night, even on the second floor. I kept everything locked up while they were gone.”

“When Alexis entered the home, how did you notice that she was there?” Sam continued. 

“I heard a crash and it woke me up right away. I never sleep well when I’m home alone,” Miranda said, shifting a little. “I went down the stairs after grabbing my phone and I saw that the back door window was shattered and the door was partially open.”

“And what all did you see?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing.

Miranda didn’t answer and bit her lip. Sam and Dean shared a quick look and Sam spoke first.

“You can tell us, Miranda,” Sam assured her. “We aren’t here to send information to your doctors. We just want the truth.”

“You won’t think I’m crazy?” Miranda asked, her eyes narrowing. “Because everyone else has.”

“We won’t, I promise,” Dean assured her, making a quick, thin smile. 

“Okay…” Miranda said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes quickly. 

Her eyes flew open and for a moment, Sam could have sworn that her eyes flashed a pale green-grey and her pupils lengthened into snake pupils before she blinked and they were back to brown. He glanced over at Dean, who did the same and Sam knew that he wasn’t imagining things. Dean had seen the change too.

“So I go downstairs, phone in my hand,” Miranda began, her voice only slightly shaky, not having noticed the shared look. “And I could hear her moving around near my living room. So I headed over to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I didn’t know it was her, so I ended up grabbing the biggest one.”

“That was the… eight inch long chef’s knife?” Sam asked for clarification. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Miranda said, looking puzzled. “I don’t know what it is actually called.”

“No worries, just keep going,” Sam prompted.

“I stalked into the living room and…” Miranda trailed off, tears beading. “I hid behind a clock, she came out of nowhere, and scratched me on the neck. I couldn’t see who it was, so I stabbed her in the stomach when she finally let go. She let go of me, but kept trying to come after me. So I stabbed her again. Then I finally managed to turn on a light and found out that it was her. She just… she wouldn’t stop. So I stopped her.”

They sat in silence for a good minute before Dean spoke again.

“Don’t you think that was a little overkill?” Dean asked, chuckling. “I mean, you just said that you knew that it was her after the light turned on.”

“She kept attacking me,” Miranda snapped back. “I had to stop her.”

“That doesn’t explain why you held her down and slit her throat after you’d already stabbed her,” Dean growled, slamming the pen down on the pad of paper.

“I’m very sorry,” Sam said softly, pausing to glare at Dean. “Is there anything else you can tell us.”

“Um… not that I can remember,” Miranda said, pursing her lips after Dean’s comments. “I mean, she was covered in blood and screamed at me.”

Sam barely cocked his head and frowned. Something about that final statement felt forced and faulty compared to her other statements.

“What do you know about Mr. and Mrs. Carter?” Dean asked bluntly, cutting into the conversation.

“They were always really nice,” Miranda said with a noncommittal shrug. “They practically raised me since kindergarten when Alexis and I became friends.”

“Then you wouldn’t happen to know anything about how they were found dead in their homes only an hour after you were arrested for Alexis’s murder?” Dean asked, his eyes hardening as he leaned forward.

Miranda’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

Sam glanced over at Dean, giving him a look that warned him to not keep going. But Dean did, of course.

“Oh yes,” Dean said with a huff. “There was blood everywhere. Alexis wasn’t home because she was at school so that means-”

“Alexis wasn’t at school the day it happened,” Miranda cut in. “I remember how weird it was for her to be missing class.”

“Oh, was she,” Dean replied scathingly, closing his notebook. “Agent, I think we’re done here.”

Dean shoved the notebook into his pocket as he stood and headed for the door. Sam gave Miranda a sympathetic smile and rose too. 

“Don’t worry about him, he’s a little on edge, that’s all,” Sam assured her before turning and following his brother. 

Miranda didn’t reply and watched them go, her eyes shifting as they had earlier while she watched the brothers head down the hallway. She slowly leaned her neck from side to side, small popping noises able to be heard as she cracked her neck. After returning to her previous posture, Miranda’s eyes remained in their new form and she fixed her gaze on the light fixture above the door. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, a look of concentration appearing. A low buzzing hum filled the room and it began to rise in pitch, the hum soon unable to be heard. 

Within seconds, the light bulb shattered, sending shards of glass all over the floor of her room. Miranda smirked, blinking once again and sending her eyes back to normal. Only then did she scream for a nurse.

* * *

“This seems too open-close,” Sam muttered, sifting through the file. 

They were back in the motel now, pouring over the contents of the police report from the night of the murders. It was just as dingy as their usual motels, but decked out in some kind of cabin theme this time. A grotesque painting of a fisherman was on the wall above the two beds, making the whole room feel more disgusting and almost sticky. 

“I don’t think she’s innocent,” Dean said with a grumble. “She flat out admitted that she murdered her best friend. And I don’t think she planned on us linking her to the parents.”

“So what do you think happened here, Dean,” Sam scoffed irritably. “Because this isn’t adding up.”

“I think Miranda there decided to start sleeping around and got a little too frisky with a lover,” Dean said, starting to smirk. “He couldn’t handle what she wanted to play and was killed by accident. So she moved onto the next, looking for someone to be able to actually mess around with. The body count kept growing. Then one day, Alexis saw it happen. Miranda found out, did her friend in. But she knew that if her parents were still around, they wouldn’t stop until she was in prison, so she went to the parents place, killed them and then called 911. Made up that whole story to try and get some kind of leniency from the police.”

Dean popped a single M&M in his mouth and chewed obnoxiously, grinning triumphantly at his concocted story. Sam rolled his eyes and kept searching through the files. 

“I just don’t get it,” Sam muttered, finally finding the page he was looking for. “Why did she call the police?”

“Who knows?” Dean asked, shrugging and sipping his beer. “People are fucking nuts.”

Sam gave his brother a sharp look and went back to reading the 911 call transcript.

_ “Hello? Hello?” _

_ “This is 911, what is your emergency?” _

_ “I-my best friend, she’s been stabbed and cut and…” _

_ “Ma’am, where are you right now?” _

_ “85963 Gunner’s Lane, please hurry!” _

_ “Alright, ma'am, please stay on the line, we are sending police and an ambulance to your location. What can you tell me about what happened?” _

_ “She broke into my house and tried to attack me, and I grabbed a knife…” _

The transcript noted that Miranda had started sobbing at that point and then hung up.

Sam stared at the sheet as Dean turned on some kind of sitcom on the scratchy motel TV. Something didn’t seem right about this whole thing. And Sam was dead set on finding out what happened.


End file.
